


Alternate Negotiations

by musesmistress



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 04:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesmistress/pseuds/musesmistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Negotiations with a new ally go slightly off track, but Elizabeth's isn't going to complain. (alternate universe)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternate Negotiations

She’s been sitting here on her knees for over an hour. Now they were starting to hurt.

Elizabeth uses hurt wisely, as ache had been about half an hour ago and her knees are no longer the part of her body that is aching. Though she has no real idea how it happened, she’s pretty sure she has a good idea where it started. Her arms are wrapped loosely around the poll, wrists tried with soft, silky like binds in a way that she can’t get out of; not that she has knowledge of how to escape a slip knot or any other kind of knot. The loop on the other side of the smooth surface is at the perfect height for her to sit comfortable. Or so she was told.

She’s well aware that there’s a hoop higher up the pillar, but this had been her captor’s choice today. The thought that someone else could be tied up looming over her is a little scary, but she lets it pass as she imagines stand up, bent at the hips to reduce strain on her wrists and giving her guard a good view of her backside.

Her guard is where she suspects this started. She’s completely lost as to where the negotiations with Sateda went wrong, but she’s pretty sure she likes the company she’s been given. A good half foot taller than her – she’d let him loom over her any day – he wears his hair in dreadlocks that drop lower than his shoulders. Carefully cared for beard and mustache make him look dangerous enough to be scary and the uniform he’s wearing outlines the muscles of his torso and arms perfectly. Not to mention two very lickable markings. Firstly the tattoo of his rank on his neck, specialist if her memory serves her right from their first day and secondly, lastly and by no means least, the three freckles that dot down beside his left eye. On top of all this loveliness are his shapely legs, strong and telling stories of hard training and lots of running and perfectly framing a slight bulge at their apex. _’Oh yeah, he wants me.’_

She’s seen him several times on this trip, always on the guard in the negotiations and always looking more bored than John – which she thought was impossible. She spares a quick thought for the rest of her entourage, their location currently unknown and their situation equally elusive, before turning her head to glance at the Satedan standing almost behind her to the left.

“You have a name?” she asks. He doesn’t answer and she turns back to the poll.

Her knees have now become extremely uncomfortable and she shifts, spreading her legs a little to change the angle of her weight on them. It’s quite by accident that she manages to rub her core against the poll and equally as accidental that she moans. This has to be a first, under arrest, strapped to a poll and horny as hell for her guard. There are worse situations. She’s pretty sure of that, she just can’t think of any right now.

“You in pain?”

_‘You could say that.’_

“No,” she said a little higher in pitch than she should have allowed. “Just,” she pauses looking for a word better than ‘throbbing’, “uncomfortable.”

She hears him shift behind her and turns to see him a few steps to his left standing now in a better line of sight than before.

“I’d offer you some cushions, but my boss will have my head,” he says and she nods, her eyes fixed on the ground before his feet, she catches his quick hand adjustment of his crouch. Her eyes snap back up to his face and she knows without a doubt she’s wearing a very seductive, extremely sly look.

“That’s okay,” she said, licking her lips. “My knees are only half the problem.”

She shifts again, repeating her earlier motion and causing the same wonderful friction of her now soaked panties against very sensitive skin. She bites her lower lip to stifle the moan and as it abates from her throat she hears him growl. She smirks.

“I just,” she shifts again, this time pulling her knees in and pushing up to her feet, “need to stretch my legs.” As predicted, with her hands tied to the lowest point on the pillar she can’t straighten her back and her backside rises in the room as her knees click into place.

“You don’t need to tease,” he says and her brow rises.

“Who says I was teasing?” She’s pretty sure she’s never teased this way or this badly before. Especially as she drops her head down and pulls her feet together and rubs herself between tightened thighs. She gasps as she feels him press against her ass, the bulge she’d seen earlier pressed nicely against her cleft.

“I could smell you twenty minutes ago.”

“Good nose,” she says, wandering just how she got herself into this and running quickly back over the bad alliance, hot guard and painful knees. _’Things could be worse.’_

“Good everything,” he responds. _‘You’re telling me?’_

“Care to untie me, you can show me all your goodness.”

His laugh is short and breathy and his hips push forwards against her as it ripples through his body. She feels him shifting and then curling over her to press his chest against her back and breathe slow and hot breath against her neck.

“Maybe I’ll leave you tied up and let you feel one of my better attributes.”

Her brow quirks and it crosses her mind that he’s only hard because it’s a woman tied to a poll in the room with him. She likes a bit of kink, she has no problem with letting a man have control – now and again. Though the last few lovers she’s been with had been very boring in that respect. Simon was boring in every respect if she’s really honest.

“Is that all you want?” she asks. “A woman tied to a poll, any woman will do?”

“No, just the sexy, beautiful ones with an unusual eye colour.” _Now there was a pick up line._ “The tied up part is a bonus,” he adds as his hand drifts down her stomach. Her breath hitches and she moves her feet apart to let his touch wherever he wants. Thankfully he goes for the right spot and despite her pants, her hips flex between his fingers and hard length.

“Oh god, yes,” she moans pressing her head against the cold pillar. She’s only been on Atlantis for just over a year and already she sounds and feels desperate for this.

“Ronon,” he breathes, placing a kiss on her neck just above the curve of her top. She wants to reply, tell him to carry on, but just as the words start to form on her lips his hand shifts to the button of her pants and with a careful flick he opens them and drags the zipper down. She’s anticipating the next move, the removal of garments or the hand vanishing under panties to tickle at wet flesh. Instead he straightens and pulls back and it take her a moment to catch her breath before she turns to look at him.

His hand is pressed against himself as he looks his fill of her backside. His lips slightly apart letting his tongue wet them before disappearing back to be captured between his teeth. He waits there for just a moment longer before he reaches forward and tugs her pants down. She sees his brow quirk at her underwear, but doesn’t ask his question, he simply leans in closer and slowly teases himself by pulling them over her hips and down to her knees.

The cool air is lovely on her heated flesh and she turns back to her perch against the stone pillar. She wants to look back at him, see what he’s doing - see if the look on his face, as he studies her, is anything more than lust for the sex of a woman. She manages to raise her head just as he leans in and runs the flat of his tongue through her vulva. She shudders, her legs instantly jelly-like and quivering at the sensation. The long groan she lets out makes him shift and his hands come up to hold her still from movement she’s not completely sure she’s making.

His tongue dances through her flesh making her vision of the marbled floor blurred and her mind fogs over with quickly approaching release. He must sense it because he stands up and she growls in frustration while listening to his leathers creek. She shifts her hips now desperately trying to entice him into her pussy, she wants it now and she can’t bring herself to consider any consequences of this moment of wild sex.

The head of his cock rubs against her, pushing down towards her clit before flicking back up to her entrance. Elizabeth moves again, widening her stance to show her willingness to be taken, but he doesn’t accept the invitation. Not yet. He pushes closer, trapping his cock back between her buttocks and she feels his balls brush her sex as he practically fucks her ass. In a fleeting moment of fear she realises she doesn’t know if he’d do that. Take advantage of her current position to do something she’s found completely disgusting. She opens her mouth to protest the thought but he pulls away and before any other thoughts of possibilities crop up in her mind, he’s pushing into her pussy with slow long thrusts.

For the first time today she wishes she was on her knees. Her back tingles and she’s not sure if her muscles are protesting the position or he’s that good. The slow slide of his length through her wet folds is glorious and his hands are placed over her buttocks so he can use the flesh to guide her. The last seven hours of negotiation and hour spent in this room are suddenly gone from her mind, Ronon’s thrusts become faster and harder and Elizabeth gasps as he steps forward and angels himself just right. He growls, stopping his movements deep inside her and forcing his hips against hers. For a second she thinks he’s going to come in her there and then, but he pulls back slightly and leans over her back to kiss once more at her neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes and the warm breath on her skin raises goose bumps. “Your eyes, your body, your voice. You’ve been driving me crazy since you got here.”

His hips shift against her and he starts rocking against her to keep the friction going. She can’t speak, for the first time in her life the connection between her brain and her mouth seems to have gone on vacation. The words are there, piling up on her mind ready to spoke, but her mouth is protesting the idea with saliva. She’s pretty sure she’d be drooling by now if she’d seen his cock first.

“I want out of here,” he says suddenly and it’s like life is suddenly injected back into her mind. “I want to go back with you, help you. I’ll get your out if you’ll accept me into your colony.”

She’s never going to get any sleep ever again. Ronon in Atlantis, in reach at night. Those tight muscles of his chest currently flexing against her back, his strong arms around her waist clinging to her stomach, rough hands aiding the rocking of her hips against his. And the sex – _oh god_ – the sex they could have every night.

“Will you take me with you?” he asks in a whisper, his hips rocking faster and a hand sliding down her belly towards her clit. The words are there again, just one this time, but it’s all that’s needed. If only she could force them out of her lips, but his rocking has turned into small thrusts, his fingers are lingering on her thighs and belly and she’s tightening on his cock as she rocks back into him wishing he’d let her come before he needs an answer. No such luck – he pauses.

“Yes,” she practically screams the word and has to swallow quickly before she really does scream. He thrusts, pulling up slightly as he moves harder and faster than before. The hand on her belly pushes her up, giving him room to move the other hand between her legs and it just takes one flick of his finger against her bud before she comes undone. She groans loudly, perhaps too loudly, and tightens around his still thrusting length. He swears, or at least she’s guessing that’s what the word means as he repeats it several times, once with each hard push inside her. Her skin tingles everywhere and before the first orgasm manages to abate completely she’s coming again and this time he lets go with and low shuddering growl that makes her shiver.

She can’t catch her breath, her body seems to be floating in some unknown galaxy miles away and her brain slowly starts to comprehend what she’s done. She’s had sex with a complete stranger. Admittedly an extremely attractive and downright sexy strange, but still – she knows nothing about him. What sexual diseases do they have here? Does he have any of them? What if she gets pregnant?!

His lips are on her neck again and she registers for the first time the scratch of his beard. It feels nice, comfortable and safe and she slowly relaxes as he withdraws from her sex. Like a gentleman, or what she hopes a gentleman would do, he pulls her clothes back up and into place and eases her down to the ground before doing up her pants. Her head remains against the pillar, her breathing still harsh in her throat and before she can say anything or apologies for something she’s not sure she needs to, she falls asleep.

~~**~~

Elizabeth wakes up in her room, the dark cool air against bare skin makes her think she’s mistaken about everything. Could the whole Satedan thing be a dream? If it was then she should have soaked her sheets with two sleep-driven orgasms from heaven, but everything around her is cool and dry and she feels strangely clean. She looks down, she’s covered by a soft blanket and nothing else and she wonders what just happened.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she turns to look at Carson. “I was getting worried for a moment, thought they’d drugged you or something.”

“What happened?” she asks a little fogged.

“Apparently your negotiations with Sateda went wrong, your guards were sent back and you were carried back by one of their men a few hours later.”

“Ronon?”

“Aye, that’s the lad,” Carson offers, packing away supplies he’d left on her bedside table. “He said you’d promised him asylum for bringing you back. Colonel Sheppard has him under guard in a room a few levels up.”

“I did promise him,” she says and blushes at the memory in which she’d told him he could stay.

“I’ll let the Colonel know,” he says picking up his bag. “In the mean time, get some more rest; you’ve had a harrowing few days.”

She nods thinking he doesn’t know the half of it. She’s back home, no pain anywhere in her body and a serene calm settles over her as Carson leaves. She’ll have to go see Ronon later, find out just what he wants to do in Atlantis, besides being her sex slave. She smiles at the though and drifts back to sleep.


End file.
